


Queequeg's Final Repose

by AnnieAmi



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Goodbye Queequeg, Poor Queequeg, Post-Episode: s03e22 Quagmire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieAmi/pseuds/AnnieAmi
Summary: Scully asks Mulder to meet her by the river to say her final goodbyes to Queequeg.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Queequeg's Final Repose

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s early,” Scully says, chin tucked into her chest, her boots shifting uncomfortably in the mud. 

“Morning.” Mulder nods sharply, walking down the grassy embankment to her side.

“It seemed appropriate to do something to honor him.” 

The sun, slung low on the horizon, casts shadows over the city, nearly hiding the grief etched on her face. And something else. Resentment, maybe. Scully hugs herself against the early-spring chill; the wind is biting near the water.

“How do we do this? I’ve never paid my respects to a dog before.”

“Didn’t you have pets growing up, Mulder?”

“We had a dog, yeah, but he ran away shortly after Samantha…” He trails off. “I always suspected my mom gave him away, actually.”

Scully’s brow furrows as she takes this in: a boy grieving for his lost baby sister has his dog, likely his only emotional support, ripped away from him. 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Baxter never ran away.” Mulder squints into the distance at the memory. “We’d let him run up and down the beach, play at the park with other dogs. He always came back to me. But one day I went to school and when I came home Baxter was gone. I never saw him again.” 

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully sighs, a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. 

“Did you have a dog growing up?” 

“With four willifull kids, we had pets in the house constantly.” Scully smiles. “Missy brought home orphaned cats and hurt puppies. It drove my dad nuts, but I think Charlie’s snake was the angriest I’ve ever seen him over a pet. Not many made it through the bigger moves, unfortunately. Mom would find a kind neighbor to take them in.”

“Even the snake?”

“I don’t remember.”

“So, how did you say goodbye to your furry friends, Scully? Did you have a pet cemetery in your backyard?” 

Scully huffs a sharp cold breath of laughter. “Not quite. But we respectfully laid to rest our lost pets.”

Mulder has a sudden flash of decaying rabbit; a rope of snake hanging from young Dana’s hands: stories divulged by Maggie, while Scully, ever protective of her privacy, lay in a hospital bed unable to defend herself.

He blinks the images away and gestures to a small bag dangling on Scully’s wrist. 

“Oh,” Scully says. “These are a couple of Queequeg’s things.”

“His favorite toys?” Mulder asks and Scully nods, a lump forming in her throat. “Can I see?”

She hands Mulder the chewed leash, a ball, a small plush bone. “That last one is from Mr. Bruckman,” she manages hoarsely and bites her lip. “He left me some food and that toy. Queequeg loved it.”

“He was a good dog,” Mulder says, his sympathetic gaze so unnerving that she averts her eyes. 

“You hated him,” she retorts, hoping it didn’t come out as mean as it sounded to her. 

“I didn’t hate him,” Mulder replies softly, leaning against the guardrail. “I’m just of the school of thought that dogs shouldn’t resemble rodents. But he made you happy. He was important to you and that’s what counts. Plus, you had matching hair.” He can’t help but joke and wonders if he bears as much responsibility for Queeqeg’s death as Big Blue. Or an alligator.

“Thanks, Mulder. But don’t ever compare me to a dog again,” she warns, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Never, Scully.”

“So when a pet passed in my family,” she begins, then pauses to take a shaky breath, “we’d bury it in our backyard with a favourite toy. Then Mom would make a big, unhealthy meal to help us forget. But I don’t have a backyard.”

Mulder nods understandingly. ”Do you want me to hold these for you?” 

“Yeah. Just give me a minute,” Scully replies. She takes out the bone and hands him the bag. 

“Take your time.” 

Tears are welling in her eyes, but there is also deep gratitude there too and, Mulder thinks, maybe she doesn't blame him, after all. He rubs her back gently.

With another shaky breath, Scully bends to scoop up a handful of dirt. “Death is only a launching into the region of the strange Untried; it is but the first salutation to the possibilities of the immense Remote, the Wild, the Watery, the Unshored,” Scully recites and let’s the dusted earth trickle between loose fingers, the grains swept away with the breeze. Then she tosses the toy into the water. 

There is comfort in the warmth and silence of the moment and Scully, heavy and sullen, leans into Mulder. He doesn’t offer vague apologies or empty promises; he allows her to grieve. Though only in her life briefly, Queequeg had occupied a large portion of her heart. Death is a career choice for Scully, but nothing prepared Dana for the sudden loss of the one friend she came home to every night.

For several minutes nothing exists but their heavy breaths and the rushing river. Finally, Scully straightens, squaring her shoulders. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yes, fine.”

“Buy you a big, greasy breakfast?” Mulder offers, pocketing the leash and toy.

“Sounds perfect.” Scully smiles appreciatively as they turn from the river and up toward the busy district, where coffee shops and diners are quickly filling with early birds.

“You know, Scully, I never pictured you littering like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alway a big thank you to @Sarie_Fairy for beta. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading!


End file.
